Weathered staff, muddy boots, broken time-piece, rugged coat, fiddle, pencil stub, yellowed pages, old photograph, parched wine-skin, coffee beans & dry flowers...scribblings of a wandering gypsy.
Yes, this is the place where I scribble all my thoughts in the form of poetry.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Its rightly said that you don’t know what you have until its gone. There's a quote by Chuck Palahniuk which seems extremely ironic, “If people thought you were dying, they would give you their full attention.”

I wish we would pay more attention to our near and dear ones while they're still around :)

This one is for a friend who had committed suicide a few years back. I still miss her terribly.

One day under the firmament fiery, she wove a coloured dreamA wish she blew, all pure and true, she wanted it to mean.With every day that came and went, her undeterred patience grewThe sole dream her eyes had dreamt, would come to her, she knew.

When rain poured down in huge rounded drops, she wept not a tearHer faith in her dream- unmoved and still fresh, was imporous to fear.Autumn gave way to the iciest winter ever, amidst the chill a dream began to burnA shivering day dawned on a last breath, a loved one taken to a place of no return.

Summer marched in with its external glory replete, happily oblivious to the cruel coldShe was content wearing the envelope of silence, deaf to the proclaimed truths told.Within her she witnessed her dream collapse, it fell down a precipice steepShe withdrew from hope with a resignation fatal, the hurt had been far too deep.

At the very edge of the cliff she stood, the salty coastal air she smelt.The tumultuous blue sea raged down below, echoing the upheavals she felt.She thought back to the day she dreamt, when hopes she would knit.She thought of too, the resounding collapse and the agony that had hit.

She cared no more for her sole comrade, the solitude that had always been hersEnded had she her store of endurance, her pains she longed to immerse.A frenzy guided each step she took, led her to where she wanted to beWith a last sigh of relief and withdrawal, she jumped into the sea...

About Coffee Beans and Dry Flowers...

Coffee Beans and dry flowers,A spent candle and ashes in the fireplace; Coffee lying stale in a chipped mug,And a table cloth that was once white,Edged with frayed lace.A window pane that is cracked,Climbers lying uncared for on the sill,A raging storm beyond it,But here my world stands still.

A bulb in the corner, at times flickering,And a radio sometimes crackles...But registers nothing.

But somewhere amidst all of this, I wait...While penningmy thoughts on yellowed pages,Random scribblings of a wandering gypsy perhaps,Waiting for my vagrant soul to find a home,Waiting for my hand to be held and grasped.

Yes, this is the place where I scribble all my thoughts in the form of poetry.

About Me

Have you ever stopped to stare at roadside flowers? Run around on dewy grass on early spring mornings? Enjoyed the musty smell of frayed pages of old books? Smiled back at strangers? Ever felt like walking back home in the rain? Stopped whatever you were doing to listen to your favourite song on the radio? Ever strained your ears to hear silence? Become teary eyed during mushy scenes in movies? Ever called up long lost friends for no apparent reason? Wanted to believe in something that cannot be explained? Ever loved? Been loved? ever lain spread eagled on the terrace, counting the wishes amidst the phosphorescent sea of a million stars overhead, wondering whether yours was somewhere among those waves too?
See, I told you…you know me…